The battle

Schmidt notices a movement from the bushes about 400 metres away. He peers through his binoculars and notices the muzzle of a gun pointing in his direction.
“Achtung! Load!”
Hans grabs a HE round (high explosive) and slams it into the breech.
“Range 400 metres –10 o’clock. Achtung! At my command – fire!”
The 88 makes a massive ear splitting smash and Tiger-Lilly rocks from the recoil like a nervous filly. The empty shell casing rumbles through the spring action mechanism of the shell-casing ejector, and clangs into the canvas bag.
Hans’s ears are ringing, but he enjoys sending greetings to the Bolshies. The Waffen are much quicker on the draw than their Marxist enemy.
“Achtung! Load!”
He feeds his Tiger with HE and is determined to continue stuffing it until it chokes or throws up.“Achtung! At my command – fire!”
The massive thump of the discharged round almost merges with the booming slam of the sledgehammer impact.
Hans is ramming then in as quick as he can.
“Achtung! Load! Fire!”
“Achtung! Load! Fire!”
“Load! Keep firing!”

Hans is smiling to himself and frothing at the mouth. This must be better than Heaven. The buzz is turning him on and he’s getting more excited every moment. He’s ecstatic and his face is glowing with gleeful pleasure. He feels he might burst at any moment. At last he’s found his true calling. His commander is getting hoarser by the minute and he’ll have to use sign language if his condition worsens.Killing the bastards is pure enjoyment. It’s like eliminating targets at a carnival, except his new hits jump and hop around in circles like a raving group of fire breathing dancers and skippers, jigging and skipping in every direction.